Allison Brennan - Stalked

But I’d never forget Rachel.

Grams’s eyesight was poor, and a few months ago she asked me to read my favorite book to her. I don’t know if the Narnia stories were my favorites, but I knew Grams would like them. There was one more book after The Silver Chair, and I wanted to finish the series for her. Maybe if I read slowly enough, she’d get better.

I read until she slept, and then I cried. I hated her for being sick, and I hated me for being mad at an old woman. I hated God for killing everyone I loved. My insides were black like an unswept chimney. Dark and full of ash. I didn’t want to be here or anywhere. I wanted to die when Grams did.

I was too big to curl up with Grams anymore, but I put the side railing down and put my head next to her thin arm. She smelled old and sweet-the sweet from the apricot shampoo she liked.

Rachel walked into Grams’s room. I stared at her, because I didn’t believe she was there.

I must have fallen asleep, because ghosts aren’t real.

“You can’t come back,” I told her.

“I know,” she said. She looked at Grams. “She’s going to die, Peter.”

“No, she’s not.” I sounded nine again.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t here. She was dead, and I’d never see her again. When Grams died, I would be alone.

“Are you going home?”

“They moved.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

Grams, don’t die. Please don’t die.

I woke up and of course Rachel wasn’t there. But Grams was, and she was petting my hair like I was her puppy. I cried again.

“Shh,” she whispered. “You’re stronger than you think. Believe in yourself, Peter, like I believe in you.”

“I don’t want you to die.” My voice cracked and broke like my heart.

“We don’t have a choice when our Father calls us home. Go get the last book. Read it to me, Peter.”

Five days later, an hour after I finished reading The Last Battle, Grams died.

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Sean Rogan woke up early Thursday morning and walked eight blocks to the gym with his partner at RCK East, Patrick Kincaid.

“Did you find anything on Laughlin?” Patrick asked.

“So far, he appears clean and I haven’t found any connections between him and Lucy or with anyone in your family. But it’s taking forever to get what I need.”

Patrick laughed. “You get pissy when you can’t break the rules.”

“I don’t break the rules.” Much. “I bend them.”

Sean usually sent the grunt work for background checks to RCK headquarters in Sacramento-they had more staff than the two-man office he and Patrick ran in D.C. In the digital age, information and how it was obtained changed rapidly. It took time to legally and quietly research anyone, and running a background on a federal agent had to be handled with special care.

In addition, Sean didn’t want his brother looking over his shoulder. Duke wouldn’t have a problem with a pro bono request from Lucy, but Sean preferred to keep his personal projects personal.

“So what do you know?” Patrick asked.

“Laughlin’s thirty-nine, from Missouri, been an agent for fourteen years, master’s from Northwestern in accounting-who gets a master’s in accounting?”

Patrick rolled his eyes. He opened the gym door for Sean and they both swiped their membership cards at the kiosk.

“He’s worked on the White Collar Squad in Detroit for the past five years, part of the joint gang task force, where his specialty is money laundering. He’s SWAT certified, but not part of the Detroit mobilization team.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“On paper.” He was harassing Lucy, and that made him an asshole in Sean’s book.

“What does Lucy think she’s going to get from this information?”

“I’m not done.” They dropped their bags against the wall and picked up free weights. “She just wants information to help her figure out why he dislikes her.”

“Slight exaggeration?”

“If you’d talked to Lucy, you’d think the same thing. If this guy’s harassing her-”

“You’ll stay out of it,” Patrick said. “Don’t make waves, not now.”

It irritated Sean that Patrick thought he’d jeopardize Lucy’s career. “I’m doing what she asked. She can use the information as she sees fit.”

Patrick hadn’t been happy when Sean first started dating his sister, but Sean supposed if he had a younger sister he’d be protective as well. Patrick seemed to have adjusted over the last few months, which was a relief, since they’d been friends long before Sean fell in love with Lucy.

Sean continued, “I think she talked to Kate, and whatever happened, Lucy is now more concerned. She didn’t give me the details, but there’s something weird going on. I trust her instincts.”

“So if Lucy knows his history, she can profile him and adjust the way she interacts.”

Sean nodded. “That’s how Lucy would handle it.”

“Maybe it’s you he has the problem with,” Patrick teased. “From your old days.”

Any other time, Sean would have laughed-it was common knowledge that he’d been a gifted hacker and now was hired to test Internet security for companies and governments. But he was worried about one crime no one was supposed to know about-yet at least one person did. Five more months and the statute of limitations would be up, and then Sean could breathe easier.

“Didn’t know you were so touchy,” Patrick said.

“You might be right, but it might not be me, specifically. Remember how Noah Armstrong hated me because of RCK?”

Patrick glanced at him with mock surprise. “You mean he likes you now?”

Sean glared at Patrick. Special Agent Noah Armstrong wasn’t Sean’s favorite person. Whether Noah admitted it or not, it was obvious he was infatuated with Lucy, and that irritated Sean. But they had called a truce, and Sean respected Noah. “Regarding Laughlin,” Sean continued, “he could very well have a problem with Lucy because of another Kincaid. No military service, but I can go a little deeper. The sooner I find the connection the better for Lucy. Information is power.”

“Good thing, it keeps our bills paid. If you need my help, let me know.” Patrick waved at an attractive tall and lanky blonde who smiled as she approached them. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Who’s that?”

“Brandy. We’re playing racquetball.”

“Brandy Dale ?”

“Yep.” Patrick had been seeing the daughter of one of their former clients, but Sean hadn’t met Brandy yet.

“We should go out this weekend, the four of us.”

Patrick shook his head. “It’s not going to last.”

“You know that?”

“Yeah, unfortunately I do. I’ll tell you later.” Patrick smiled and met Brandy halfway. He kissed her warmly; then they walked toward the racquetball courts.

Very strange. And it threw a wrench in Sean’s life-he’d been counting on Patrick disappearing this weekend so he and Lucy could have some much-needed alone time. But Sean couldn’t worry about his partner’s love life or this weekend.

Sean finished his basic workout, then ran three miles on the treadmill and considered what Patrick had said about why Laughlin might have an issue with Lucy. By the time he got home an hour later, he had an idea based on the fact that Lucy didn’t want to talk to Kate. There must be history between Laughlin and Kate, and it would have to go back to Kate’s rookie years in the FBI, long before she’d met the Kincaid family. It was a good place to start.